Every society has its Immortals. Greece had Hercules, Rome had Cesar, America had Franklin D. Roosevelt and John F. Kennedy. Immortals need a shrine; but unlike Mount Rushmore, Jean Drapeau Island is a shrine to many great people, regardless of their nation of origin.
It is with some mirth that I note this bridge is named after Jakez Karter, better known as “Jacques Cartier”. Cartier is credited with finding the Saint Lawrence, but I find it more interesting that his incompetantly let half of his crew die of scurvy – because he didn’t think enough to take some oranges with him. Scurvy is cured by Vitamin C. This, coupled with his outright lies about the riches of Canada and his attempt to kidnap the leader of the local tribe (all stuff we didn’t learn in History class, wonder why?) leads me to better understand why he failed to form a permanant colony in Canada.
Buckminister Fuller was a name I first heard while our teacher took a break from the normal tedium in physics class to bring up something interesting – the Buckyball. A Buckyball, C60, is a specialized structure that looks a bit like a soccer ball. This molecule was named after Fuller, since he came up an entire school of spherical archetecture. Emerging research indicates that Potassium Fullerene (A Buckyball with a Potassium Atom) could serve as a super conductor.
Buckminister Fuller is the greatest immortal who can be seen, in work or name, on Jean Drapeau Island. He is responsible for the distinctive geodesic dome that served as the American exhibit during the World’s Fair in 1967. A fantastic archetect, with a social conscience, he sternly lectured his generation about its failure to spread prosperity across the globe. When reading the arrogance and imperialism of the “Project for the New American Century” and other modern schools of American thought, it is easy to think that Americans are the latest self-absorbed nation that will fall because of its ignorance. This is not true – Americans are filled with examples like Buckminister Fuller – peace-loving, respectful, and ingenious. It fills me with sadness to know that he passed away before we could truly realize the greatness of his work.
Gilles Villeneuve was a Quebec-born F-1 racer who was considered one of the best of his time. At his peak, he won races in cars that would DNF in the hands of a less-skilled driver. Unfortuantely, Gilles also had a problem in the form of betrayl. At the San Marino Grand Prix in 1982, he was stabbed in the back, figuratively speaking, by teammate Didier Pironi who passed him against team orders. Villeneuve died during the next race in a horrific car crash.
Gilles was a true Quebecois hero, born and raised here, with a very Quebecois attitude towards racing. This contrasts heavily with his eurotrash son, Jacques, who really has no right to be considered a Quebecois hero. Sadly, it seems that you only need to be vaguely connected to Quebec in order to be saluted as a “Quebecois Hero”. More the shame – Jacques can’t hold a candle to his father.
Who will be the new immortals on this island? To whom will future monuments be errected to? Will a day come that a Jean Lesage for Montreal take his rightful place here…?